Roomates
by TheRebelRenegade
Summary: Just think about having Lars Ulrich and James Hetfield as roommates..


I groaned, glaring advertently at my alarm clock. 4:32, it read. It was way too early, and I was too comfortable to move. It was so warm. So soothing. The clock ticked. I decided to get up, swinging my legs over the side of my bed. I stepped through my door, opening it as quietly as possible, so I wouldn't wake the slumbering lions in the next room.

I expertly made my way over to the couch. It was a junky piece of crap, but it was all we could afford at the time. Settling down on the couch , tucking my legs underneath me. I turned on our Magnavox and dialed channel six. The newscaster greeted me cheerily, opening with the weather forecast. I sighed, brushing my scruffy amber hair away from my face and tugging on the ends of my oversized Misfits t-shirt that James loaned me.

I picked up the sound of stomping feet vibrate through our apartment, and breathed when I saw locks of blonde hair exit through a doorway and come into the living room. James Hetfield plopped down next to me on the sofa, nuzzling my shoulder. He was shirtless, and only wore a pair of black shorts. His bare torso rubbed against my arm. I began to shift uneasily in my seat, trying to pull my, or should I say James' shirt, over my short-shorts and legs. 'Would you fucking sit still?..." He mumbled into my neck, his nose buried into my collar, and his breath grazing my skin. I shivered slightly at the touch. "Oh, well Good morning to you too, ass." I said, rolling my eyes in exasperation. James nuzzled into me some more. "I got the impression that you liked my ass…" He smiled against my neck.

"Why are you up so early?" I asked him, slightly confused. Usually he and Lars slept until 12:30, so I was the one who made them breakfast. And during that process, one of them, or the both of them, would grab a beer from the refrigerator. "Boy, what are you doing?" I would say in a chastising, motherly tone. They would smirk at me, and say "It's five o'clock somewhere, right?"

"Couldn't sleep…" He muttered against my neck, wrapping an arm around my waist, using me as a pillow. I playfully shoved him, and he groaned in protest, cuddling back into my neck. "Oh, C'mon Joelyn, I need a pillow…" He whispered into my ear. I shook my head. I had been roommates with James and Lars for over a month now., and already they began to flirt. Light , friendly flirting. And that was usual, boys will be boys right? But this, this was a bit different. And it wasn't just James either. Lars even did stuff like this. I could live with it, it wasn't a problem. But it does make one contemplate the true motive.

I decided to give in. I was a sucker for James' sad, sapphire blue eyes. "Fine…" I grumbled. James' lips formed a smile against my neck, and he wrapped both arms around me, his head resting against my chest. His thick, long golden lion's mane brushed against my thighs. "So…" I began, nudging him gently. He tilted his head up to face me, and I noticed he looked spent. "Do you have any preference for breakfast this morning? I figure you can choose, because your the first one up."I asked. James just exhaled. "Pancakes?" He said, glancing up, then turning his attention to the television. I chuckled. "Pancakes, Mr. Hetfield? Pancakes? Are you outta your cotton picking mind?" I mused. He grinned and nodded. "True, but that's what you like about the band. You love the fact that we are insane." He joked. And he was right.

Metallica were insane. They were maniacal. Their shows were crazy, they themselves were inebriated most of the time, and they just had those personalities that if you stuck them in a room together, something out of the ordinary would be bound to occur.

I smiled. Another set of footsteps echoed, and I braced myself for a short little danish dude. "Oh, good morning Princess!" I exclaimed as he entered the living room. He glared at me, but then his gaze softened when he saw James, now fast asleep, holding me protectively. I immediately understood. So I scooted James and myself over to make room for Lars. He sat down in the space made for him, and rested his head on my shoulder. Oh C'mon boys! I argued with myself. Why were they doing this? I bet it was some sort of cruel joke. Another one of their many cruel jokes.

"Good morning Joelyn…" He greeted, sighing. I shook my head. They must be having a horrible hangover to be acting so affectionate and so needy like this. I looked at the clock in the corner of the television. 5:13am. And it was 72 degrees and sunny. "What would you like for breakfast Lars?" I glanced at him, beginning to stand up from the couch. They both moaned in protest, and James ' head fell against Lars' thigh. James didn't move and Lars didn't shoo him away. "Eggs and bacon?" Lars suggested. I nodded. "Now, that my friend, will work." I smiled, and made my way towards the kitchen.


End file.
